Run
by ILostMyShoe1
Summary: "Dean, take Sammy. Run, and don't look back." When John Winchester is finally caught and charged on credit-card fraud, what future is bound for the Winchesters? How can they handle their lives being thrown about by authorities, then thrown into a boarding school across the world? In England.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Washington, DC, USA

That morning had been rough, and even that was an understatement. Mordecai Tate was exhausted. Late night shifts everyday for a week, and it was finally beginning to get to him. He was forming bags under his eyes from the tiredness, and little things began to get to him. He also seemed to be overdosing on coffee.

These, among other things, were what made it so frustrating when Joshua Dawson, the short and scrawny new-guy, came in thrusting a new case upon him. Mordecai sat at his desk; he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. There was a large pile of papers and the rather large computer in front of him. "This looks interesting." He said happily as he passed his senior the fax.  
"Mm," Mordecai just answered in reply as he read through it. Credit card fraud. _Interesting_. Dawson really was a funny guy, he thought as he skimmed the paper.  
"They caught the guy on CCTV." He said, his voice unusually high for a man his age.  
"Oh really…"  
"He's been identified as an ex-marine."  
"Should _I_ really be working on this case?" He inquired, "I have so much on my schedule at the moment."

"It's the chief's orders." Joshua said, his voice lowering slightly. He really looked forward to working with Officer Tate; it saddened him that the other didn't feel the same way. He had only just started at Washington's State Police Department a few weeks ago. Not many of the other officers seemed to like him. They'd nicknamed him 'dorkson'. However Mordecai always stood up for him. He reminded him of his older brother.  
"Fine, tell me more about this marine." He said, sitting back in his chair and fiddling with his pen in his right hand, he lent his feet on his desk and put his head back, to face the ceiling. 

Joshua beamed, as he stood and stared at his new role-model, "Mid-thirty's. Never been arrested. Barely been on the system for a good few years. His wife died in a fire and he has two sons."  
"What makes them think it's him?"  
"He was caught using a fake guy's card. The card company looked up the name immediately and they only found one guy with the name 'Clark Rogers' and he's retired and hasn't claimed a credit card in the past five years. Besides, they identified him as John Winchester through the footage and finger-prints.

Mordecai nodded, "Do they know where he is staying?"  
"A motel room in Cheyenne, Wyoming."  
"Get a group cops to arrest him for us."  
"Yes sir, what about his kids?"  
Mordecai signed, he loathed the whole idea of separating a family, but what could he do?  
"Bring them in as well. And book us a flight to get there as soon as possible."  
Dawson saluted like a dork and left the room. Mordecai just shook his head and rubbed it, as a pathetic attempt to relieve his headache. What this job did to him…


	2. Trapped like a rat

Chapter 1

Cheyenne, Wyoming, USA

The moon sat high in the evening sky, and peered over the state as the sun had finally sank. It was only 8.00pm, but due to the winter, the darkness consumed day much faster than anyone could ever be used to.

"Dean?" Sam asked, looking over to his brother, whom was pacing and staring out of the window every so often.  
"Yes Sammy." He replied, his voice seemingly annoyed by his brother's pestering, but other things clearly bothered him more.  
"How long will it be until Dad gets back?" He asked, there was a specific urgency to the thirteen-year-olds voice.  
"I _don't_ know Sammy!" He groaned. It was bad enough his dad had ditched him for a hunt, but having to baby sit as well, it wasn't fair. The younger one just sat back and folded his arms, sour from his brother's mood. And Dean had a bad feeling, especially when he saw the impala outside of the motel room, it was way too fast, and he could see flashing lights…

BANG! The door crashed open and their father stumbled in, clearly exhausted and panicked a rare expression for John. Dean was over there in a flash, "Dad? What's going on?" Sam was a little slower, but still reached the door within seconds.

John walked toward the window and peered through it, leaving his boys to stare. He then turned around and let out a long sigh, "Cops. Dean, listen carefully," He said, turning to his eldest son, "Take Sammy, out the back. Run, and don't look back."  
"What!? There must be-"  
"Listen!" John said angrily, Dean nodded grimly, "If they catch you…" He signed, clearly bothered by the possible events, "I _will_ escape and I _will _find you boys_. _Just do as they say. But do what you can to get away._" _He added, refusing to let his boys give in without a fight. He gave one final look to Dean. The boy could read him like a book and gave a small, almost invisible, nod.

"GO!" He shouted as he heard the footsteps tapper on the motel drive. Dean instinctively grabbed Sam's hand and ran out the back, hating himself for leaving their father, but what choice did he have?__

With that, the doors burst open again and guns were pointed to John. "Put your hands on your head." They ordered. He complied. "You have the right to remain silence. Anything you say or do, can and will be held against you in court." Dean took one last look at the motel room, and then sprinted, Sam trying desperately to keep up with him. A siren in the distance echoed in their ears, as the remaining police, who weren't arresting their father, followed their orders in taking the two boys to the station as well. 

Sam felt horrid, from head to toe. It was his fault. He was with fine keeping up, usually, but with the course of events he could hardly concentrate on his steps. He knew for a fact it was his fault the police had caught them. Little did he know, Dean didn't blame him for a second.

'What was with that anyway?' Sam thought, their father just pushed them into his problem, as he always did. Sam felt guilty for thinking like this, but he could hardly blame himself. That was their life; they were forced to endure any action, because their dad never earned his own money, because he had a job that didn't pay, because _he_ couldn't get over the past. All Sam had ever wanted was a normal life.

Dean felt differently on the matter. He trusted every small piece of his father. Dean knew he couldn't help it, he darn well hoped that he couldn't help it. It was for family, and that was why he did the credit card fraud. And family was a damn good enough reason. The hunting was another story. The eldest Winchester knew darn well it was for revenge, but he still agreed that saving people wasn't a bad profession. Besides all of this, his only thought was Sammy. He _needed _to protect Sammy.

"I'm going to ask you one last time." The police-man said, clearly inpatient. "Did your father tell you- or not - anything of him doing credit card fraud?" He said his voice loud and slow as if addressing babies. This annoyed Dean impossibly more.  
"And I'm going to ask _you_ one more time, BITE ME!" Dean said, a sly grin spreading on his face, clearly entertained.  
The man let out a deep sound, almost identical to a growl. He then turned to the younger one, who seemed to be nicer, "Come on son. If you help us, it'll only become much easier for you."  
Sam put his head back for a moment, then leaned forward and faced the old man, with a disgustingly large pimple on the tip of his nose, and huge bags that sunk under his eyes, "I prefer a challenge." He remarked, and fell back again, clearly proud of himself, and glancing slightly to Dean to see his expression. He was grinning.

The senior cop left the room, a sour expression plastered on his face. He was fed up of children. He walked over to Officer Tate gloomily, "You aren't getting anything out of those two. Tough as rubber." He said, clearly despising them. Mordecai signed, "Fine, I'll call a social worker to take them away. It seems as though we have enough evidence already. We can present it in court and I doubt he'll have much defense. Thanks, Carlson." The cop nodded and left. Leaving Mordecai alone, to wait in the small waiting room of The Wyoming Police Department.

-

"It'll be a great opportunity for them!" The social worker insisted, through her smudged lipstick.  
"And, what right do we have to ship these boys to a whole other continent?" Mordecai asked. It seemed so wrong, despite what mistakes were made, to separate son's from their father, no matter what the benefits. Mordecai would never let his boy get taken away from him. _Never. _  
"Every right. While their father is in jail, I'm their guardian, and they need manners and a decent education."

"Their father was just arrested; you can hardly blame them for being slightly rude."  
She pouted and folded her arms, "Nottingham boarding school is a fantastic place. I know plenty who have gone there and become fantastic young gentlemen and ladies."  
"What about when their father is released?" He inquired, "What happens then?"  
"Then he can keep them there, if he cares about them, or take them back." "Have you got kids?" He asked the greasy red-headed lady. She looked confused, "No I-," "Have you _any_ idea what it's like to be separated from your own kids?" "Look, sending me on a guilt trip is hardly going to-" "Yes. Or. No." "No." She answered, her mood was blatantly not positive. "Then who are you to say what's best for these boys? You have no idea what strain this will put in their family. What about how _they_ feel? You look them in the eye and tell them you are forbidding them from seeing their father for at least two years." "I have _every _right to do what I want with them. Their father was arrested. It was _his_ own fault he was separated from his children. Don't _you_ dare criticize me, sir. I know exactly what is going to happen to this family, and it _is_ best. Why don't you sort out your own family before you try to save others?" And with that, she left. Mordecai was furious.  
Who did she think she was? Mordecai had a wife and son, his wife was disabled, and could barely speak after a stroke she had suffered from a year past. She had a carer at the house 24/7, but things became hard for all of them. His son barely concentrated at school, and he argued with him frequently. But Mordecai loved his beautiful wife and his genius son, even with their difficulties. _Winnifer _had no right in her job to say _anything_ to him. She had done an absolute terrible job counseling his son, so who on Earth was _she_ to criticize? He only wished there were more he could do for those two boys. It wasn't right. The policeman could feel it in his bones.  
-

"Hi boys." She said, sitting in front of them and glaring with her large spectacles, "Me and the _nice_ police man have made a decision for you."  
Dean groaned at her patronization.  
"Be a bit peakier. You're going to England after all!" She said, throwing on them like an anchor.  
Sam shot a look at her, "What!?"

"Yes, to Nottingham boarding school!" Her tone was ecstatic, yet her expression calm, "Where you two will become two young gentlemen."

"Don't make me laugh." Dean said, although his voice was dead serious, "Me and Sammy are _not_ going to England. Nor are we going to some posh-ass boarding school."  
"That's exactly why you are going. Your language is terrible." She said spitefully with an eye roll, Dean aggressively wanted to strangle her. "I'm afraid you have no choice. I have booked the plane tickets and you are leaving first thing tomorrow morning." With that, she got up and left a bounce in her step as though she were walking on clouds. She liked the feeling of doing right for people. Winnifer Morgan took pride in her work. She had won several awards on social working, and she knew exactly how to handle children. Just like Nottingham Boarding School did. _Control._

That night was rough for the Winchester's. They were forced to sleep in a local care home. Dean had insisted they share rooms, and they were lucky the young carer was nice. Much unlike their damned bitch of a social worker.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, "Dean? Are you awake?" He hissed into the darkness. He could barely make out the outline of his brother on the bed next to him, and he only just caught the glint of his green eyes.  
"What Sammy?" He moaned back, clearly exhausted, despite his restlessness. "I'm sorry…" He called miserably, "For falling earlier. It was my fault we were caught." It had been building up in him the whole day. They had to go to _boarding_ school because of him. "It's not your fault Sammy. We'd have got caught soon anyway." "Really?" He asked, he wasn't sure he believed his brother, but it made him feel better nonetheless. "Yeah. Just don't worry about it-"He let out a yawn mid-sentence, "-Just go to sleep." He said, and Sam watched as he closed his eyes and drifted off.


End file.
